As rowing men know, New Zealand has produced more than one sculler of repute, and at this moment Webb, of the Wanganui River, holds the title of champion of the world. With this development of sculling, there is a curiously contrasted lack of especial excellence in other forms of rowing. Indeed one is inclined to predict that aquatic skill in the islands will, in days to come, display itself rather in sailing. The South Pacific is an unquiet ocean, and long stretches of our coast are iron-bound cliffs or monotonous beaches. But to say nothing of half-a-hundred large lakes, there are at least three coastal regions which seem made for yachting. The most striking of these, but one better adapted for steam yachts than for sailing or small open craft, is at the butt-end of the South Island, and includes the fiords of the south-west coast and the harbours of eastern Stewart Island. Between the two Bluff Harbour lies handy as the yachtsman’s headquarters. The second of the three chief yachting grounds of the colony has been placed by nature on the southern side of Cook’s Strait among a multitude of channels, islands, and sheltered bays, accessible alike from Wellington, Nelson, or Picton, and affording a delightful change and refuge from bleak, wind-smitten Cook’s Strait. The best, because the most easily enjoyed of the three, is the Hauraki Gulf, studded with islands, fringed with pleasant beaches and inviting coves, and commanded by the most convenient of harbours in the shape of the Waitemata. Nor, charming and spacious as the gulf is, need the Auckland yachtsmen limit themselves to it. Unless entirely wedded to smooth water, they can run northward past the Little Barrier Island and visit that fine succession of beautiful inlets, Whangarei, the Bay of Islands, and Whangaroa. All lie within easy reach, and all are so extensive and so picturesquely diversified with cliffs, spurs, bays, and islets, that any yachtsman able to navigate a cutter with reasonable skill should ask for nothing better than a summer cruise to and about them. CHAPTER IV IN THE FOREST In one of the rambling myths of the Maori we are told how the hero Rata, wishing to build a canoe, went into the forest and felled a tree. In the old days of stone axes, tree-felling was not the work of an hour, but the toil of days. Great, therefore, was Rata’s vexation when, on returning to the scene of his labours, he found that the tree had been set up again by magic, and was standing without a trace of injury. Much perplexed, the woodcutter thereupon sought out a famous goddess or priestess, who told him that the restoration was the work of the Hakaturi, or wood-fairies, whom he must propitiate with certain ceremonies and incantations. Rata therefore once more cut the tree down, and having done so, hid himself close by. Presently from the thickets there issued a company of small bow-legged people, who, surrounding the fallen tree, began to chant to it somewhat as follows:--